I promised myself I would do every Strobist Bootcamp II assignment this go-around. I swear I did. When I failed at doing the second one (the food assignment), I went out and bought some random vittles at Whole Foods to make up for it. A good strobist I was. I chose a random smattering of things: serrano peppers, fresno peppers, coffee beans, spaghetti (spinach AND wheat), two-bite brownies, and pints of blueberries.
Sadly, the brownies didn't make it out of the evening alive. But the coffee beans did! I'm not sure about the photos though. I need to take a step back and re-evaluate what I did and figure out how I could have made them better. I think the biggest problem is that they're just too uniform in color. All brown, no biscuit.
Biscotti might have helped.
But that's ok. I still managed to spend over an hour working the light and coming up with something that looked good. Compared to many of the 2nd assignment's submissions, I think they suck a bit. For the reason mentioned above. I just didn't think enough about what I wanted to do with what I had.
I have a few more ideas to work through for the berries and peppers, but that's going to take a day or two before I'm ready to even work on that. The hard part is trying to re-create northern sunlight coming in through the window in the dining room. It's just too hot during the day to try and shoot back there.
I've included a few lighting setup shots so you can see what I was doing. It's not much, but it's a start.
What I'm realizing now is that, while the umbrellas do really well at creating a large, soft light, they're extremely challenging to control. I mean, it's a big round light. At one point, I was getting hot spots coming through because of how close I had the umbrella to the kitchen table. Solved that by slipping a piece of paper inside the umbrella at the point where it came closest to the table top to help diffuse out more of the light. That definitely worked great.
But, I need a good softbox. I need more light control for something like this.
In time.
But yeah, take a look at my coffee. Juan Valdez ain't got nothin' on my coffee bean yumminess! I think I'll have to play with this idea some more. Add some piles of white cane sugar, maybe some cinnamon sticks. And a different mug. The brown is definitely just too much.
Oh, and next time I'm buying cheaper coffee. Something I can throw away when I'm done; or at least keep away from my wife who kept trying to act as part of the coffee bean thievery guild of greater Austin. Maybe I'll just buy her her own coffee and that'll solve my problem.
More photos from the evening. Click through to see the explicit lighting details.
Results! Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results. I know several thousand things that won't work. — Thomas A. Edison
In one of the photography forums I so frequently haunt, a new photographer threw out the age old existential question: "What makes a better photo, film or digital? Discuss." Yikes. Let's just lob the Holy Hand Grenade of Photographic Antioch into our midst and see what carnage we can make!
Ok, it really wasn't that bad. The responses ranged from the obvious of "The photographer" to "it depends on what you're shooting and it's intended use." But the one that caught my eye was the guy who said:
"I shoot both. I do nature with film as I love the whole process but shoot people with digital due to ease of use and most of my shoots with people are typically upward of 1000 - 2000 photos which would be ungodly expensive with film."
I've never really focused on shooting film, but I do understand the expense of it. What I question about his statement is the "1000 - 2000 photos" per shoot with his digital camera. And I have to ask: why? Why would you want to do that, especially for people? Is there something I'm missing here?
I get that there's a desire to create the perfect photo. I really get that. But what is it about digital that makes people think shooting 1000+ photos will get them perfection? Don't get me wrong, there's probably a time and place for it. But really, is that needed all the time? I wonder if people's photos would improve a notch or two if they stopped taking the shotgun approach to their art (or work) and thought a bit about what exactly they were trying to create.
From what I've encountered, some photographers look at digital as the panacea of recording media. I get the sense that these photogs just snap and snap with wild abandon because, hey, it's digital ... it's free! But that's not entirely true. What you've gained in saved film processing costs, you've now lost due to increased time dealing with more photos during post. You're now saving large amounts of data off so your archiving costs increase. There's a larger wear-and-tear factor on your camera. You may or may not care about any of these things.
Now, I'm guilty of doing this on occasion, taking photo after photo of the exact same pose or moment ... or maybe even slightly altering it to see if that changes the dynamic of the content. But ... does this really help me, as a photographer? I realize I can't shoot every thing I see (well, I can, but I won't). I'm going to miss some things. That's just the law of averages.
But, thousands of images at a sitting? Sounds like a bit much to me.
As for the whole digital vs. film debate? That rages on.
The model above is Scarlet. We were trying different things in the studio. This was my third attempt at this setup. I tried a few times and moved on when I thought I wasn't getting it. Lucky me, it turned out.
If your lifetime goal is to own a fireworks stand ... you might be a redneck. -- Jeff Foxworthy
I, of course, don't want to own a fireworks stand. Now, I'm not knocking those who do, but that aspiration just isn't my style. Nevertheless, I did my photographic duty yesterday and camped out with the hundreds of thousands of other people at Town Lake in the blazing July heat. Yes, that fantastical Texas heat. As if the showering sparkles of gun powder laced in burning smoke, the army of fire ants, and warm drips of sweat weren't enough.
For all my heat-induced bellyaching, I have to say I did enjoy the show. I made the colossal mistake of parking close this year. You know, to save time getting to the show. Because I'm Lazy. Yes, with a capital "L". Hung out with a few friends before the show so I could suck up some of their marvelous air conditioning. It was like seeing one of those signs out in the desert, "Last chance for gas, 180 miles." You knew you'd better stop and partake of that brilliant resource before you found yourself out in the middle of nowhere, miles from relief and help, while pissing into the wind.
By 8:45, I knew I had to get over to the park or I'd miss my chance to etch the pretty sparklies onto a flash card for posterity. Say goodbye to Mr. A/C. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
I found a spot on the hill in front of the Palmer Event Center. It's a shame it was the wrong spot. See, what I neglected to realize in my excellently sketched out plan was ... well, you'll see. Sadly, leave it to me to draw this plan out on the back of a napkin. When the ink soaked in like a bloodied pool, I discovered error of my ways. What was so wrong?
Well, everything was fine with the playing of the 1812 Overture. The guns were booming, people were jumping up in fright. And when the fireworks started, they ... were. not. in. front. of. me. No.
They were off to my left. Right behind a lamp post. It was at that moment I wished I had one of two things: a rifle and scope or Dumbledore's lamplight killer thingy. To say I was annoyed would be the understatement of the moment. Shame I had already unpacked all my camera gear and dug in to my little photo foxhole. I was fully engaged and had nowhere to escape to. So, I did what any good photographer would do.
I shot.
There's a scene in Wild, Wild West where Artemis, acting as the President, is chastising West on his investigative style: "Shoot, shoot again, shoot some more, and then ask questions." This thought bubbled up to the front of my mind as I laid on the camera trigger and didn't stop shooting until the last explosive pot launched above the Austin skyline.
And as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Fifteen minutes to get in and find my spot. Fifteen to setup. It took me two to pack, and ten to hoof it out. I wanted to beat the rush. Sadly, I, like every other optimistic party-goer in Austin, decided that they would beat the rush too. Dave Mustaine kept my company the rest of the evening while I ... moved a foot, stomped on the brake. moved a foot, stomped on the brake. Moved three feet ... stomped on the brake.
Fireworks shows put on at Town Lake are an exercise in patience. But, only at their end. There are only five major north-south thoroughfares through Austin to get over the lake: IH35, Congress, South 1st, Lamar, and Mopac. South 1st is always shut down for big events. And the rest, well ... imagine a parking lot. Only with pissed off drunk people. And it's 47 bazillion miles long. It goes without saying that I wanted my bloody hovercar last night. I even called my wife and asked here where my hovercar was. I bet she stole it from me just to make me suffer.
But I digress.
Eventually, I made out of the area and onto IH35 wherein, I stomped on the gas, popped some Digital Underground into the CD player, and cruised through the city at high speed, deftly avoiding the drunk yahoos and their mishmash of weaving and bouncing off the concrete walls.
And that, my friends, was how I spent 4th of July in Austin.
If you'd like to see bigger versions of the photos below, check out my Fireworks Slideshow on Flickr.
Tim Kizminski: How are we supposed to know if the floor is on fire in one of these?
Lt. Steven McCaffrey: When the doors open, if it's hot, don't get out.
Backdraft 1991
Do you remember Backdraft? Came out in the early 90's, starring Kurt Russell, one of the Baldwin boys, Jason Gedrick, and good ol' Robert De Niro. All of them are fire fighters of sordid experience, playing with Old Man Fire in Chicago. Little Billy Baldwin and Gedrick are probies. You know, the FNGs. Fresh out of fire fighter training and eager to fit in. It's a feel good coming of age story. Or something.
Anyway, there's a scene where Gedrick (Kizminski) and Russell (McCaffrey) are riding up an elevator handling a fire call out. Kizminski's nervous. I recall this being his first real run. I recall that quote above very distinctly. It's pragmatic and soberingly snarky. Something you'd expect from a master teaching a young student. A firefighter's koan if ever there was one.
This scene popped into my mind last Thursday as I was reading a notice from the City of Austin after it was prominently stapled to the front door of the Hostel. Err, I mean the warehouse. Rather, the building where our studio coop is.
"... tenants have until July 16th to vacate the premises ..."
"... unsafe conditions ..."
"... condemned ..."
Whiskey-tango-foxtrot. Ground control, we have a problem.
So, good for us, we don't own the building. We're just a tenant. Bad for us, we're just a tenant and we no longer have a studio. In my faux shock and awe ("I'm shocked! SHOCKED I say!") I continued to read through the three pages of violations that the landlord was being charged with. In no particular order (and the ones I could remember) are:
No sprinkler system
Wrong zoning (zoned warehouse, instead used for multi-use tenant)
Dead end hallways leading to entrapment condition during fire
Lack of inside lighting
Improper building materials used indoors (fire retardant ones)
Improper hallway sizes for emergency egress
Improperly built stairways
Illegally built stairways
Electrical system not up to code
Insufficient exit signage
Additions to the building without a permit ... both minor (walls) and major (whole additions to the building)
No certificate of occupancy for any of the tenants
and last, but not least, ignoring multiple court orders to close the warehouse down
Yeah. No shit. Who knew it was a fire trap? I'm shocked, SHOCKED I say! Honestly, I'm really not surprised. The fire marshall came a few weeks back to do his inspection. This means someone got pissed at the landlord at some point in recent history and reported him.
I feel sad, really. As many warts as that place has, I had some good times and some good shoots there. I feel sorry for some of the other tenants. One lady put in $25k worth of improvements to her place there. The guys at the Hookah shop had only been there about two months I guess. Another photographer had just moved in the week before and prepaid three months of his rent.
Rumor has it an angel investor has come in wanting to take over the place. They say they have good relations with the fire marshall, city council, and the mayor's office. They own a few other properties in Austin and are willing to get things fixed and right.
But, only if the current tenants stay.
What a quandry.
The tenants met Friday night to discuss their options. They're investigating a lawsuit for return of all back rent and deposits because the landlord made the contracts under false pretenses. At a minimum, it was illegal for him to lease out the place without getting it rezoned for multi-tenant use and getting certificate of occupancies.
We looked at a new place on Sunday. All seven of us met there after the Austin Strobist meetup. At first glance, this place would be an absolute dream. Sadly, it's too much. The owner of this property was willing to cut us a deal for the first two months, but even with that, we're still talking over three grand once you include deposits, utilities, and first month's rent. I knew it would be too much for us when I walked in. Going from a one room studio with a community restroom to a four room plus storage and a private restroom is just too much for us at this point. Especially with the economy still in the dumps. But man, it would have been a dream.
Realistically, we need a slightly larger studio with an additional room for prop storage. We'll find something, I just don't know when.
In the end I'm kind of glad to be out of the fire trap. While it worked as a good studio in a central location, it just didn't look all that professional walking into the building. It's a warehouse, plain and simple.
I'm just glad to know what to do in case of a fire: when the doors open, if it's hot, don't get out.
The photo up top is of Adam. He's one of the local fire spinners here in Austin. He's whipping flaming poi around his body to the sound of music swimming out of his iPod. You can see the body's silhouette amidst the flames.
Photos from the meeting mentioned in the previous posting. It was fun, hilarious, contentious, thought provoking, maddening, and occasionally filled with "WTF?!". This is the second time I've done this. It's definitely interesting to listen to the plethora of opinions that come out from the papers we have to review for this conference.
What a disturbingly long weekend. I had to make a trip up to Chicago on Friday. Why, you ask? Why, I had a day long meeting to attend on Saturday for a conference I'm helping to organize in November. The conference doesn't matter here. What matters is my Gilligan's Tale and my 12 hour winged boat trip, over hill and dale, passed an archway you couldn't touch, and finally into a rain-swept city that's famous for it's pizza.
Friday started out fine. Austin, as usual, was blazingly sunny, creeping into a mild hotness that's only seen on the outskirts of Hades during their flaming winter break. I took the day off so I could have a relaxed flight up there with some time to spare. Because I was only flying up for the weekend, I wouldn't have much time to explore and some of the others en route were planning a trip to one of the museums. The plan ... it was good and golden and smelled of sweetness.
Things began to go sour when I came close to missing my flight when Schlotsky's employees at ABIA stepped up to a new level of dumbery that I'd not seen since ... well, do you remember that I Love Lucy scene where they're in the chocolate factory and the chocolate just keeps coming and coming and coming? No? Here's a refresher.
Anyway, the sandwich makers were doing everything possible to screw up orders. The bread just kept coming, slamming into orders ahead like a bad pileup on IH-35. No one slowed down and everyone with a receipt just got closer and closer, rubbernecking with the best. When I finally got my food, they were one group away from closing off the door to the jetway and launching the plane. I boarded, found my seat with every intention to eat on the way to Chicago, and settled in for a short three hour flight.
We were all summarily booted from the plane 10 minutes later. O'Hare was closed thanks to Mother Nature. No problem, take off time reset to 3pm. I sit out in the waiting area munching on my food and chitchat with a female soldier on her way back from Iraq. She'd been over there for a 12 month tour. She's ready to go home. She's on her way to New Hampshire to pick up her kids, one of which she hasn't seen since the kid was 15 months old. It was pretty heart wrenching listening to her talk though. You could tell she was done with flying.
So, 3pm comes and goes, we all board and ... the O'Hare that had been opened had just been ... closed. Again. This time we were booted from the plane only if we wanted to be booted. I stayed on the plane and read. The camera got pulled out to start documenting the hilarity that I knew would ensue.
5pm comes and everyone starts piling back into the plane. O'Hare is open! Mad rush to the seats. Mind you, we're at groundstop number two and we haven't left Austin yet. It's now freaking hot in Austin. It's also storming in Chicago so badly that they have tornadoes. Or warnings, at least. But, the pilot thinks the can time the flight so we land in between two of the larger feeder cells that are swamping Chicago with cats, dogs, and wicked witches with striped stockings.
We taxi out and ... no, no ground stop. We actually make it off the runway. Now, every time I take off in a plane, I'm reminded of the scene in Firefly where they're zooming through the planet and Wash is piloting the ship. He says, "I'm a leaf on the wind, see how I soar." Well, I think about this line every time I fly. I don't know why. Just a weird quirk. It's not like I expect a wooden spear to slam through the fuselage of the plane and stab me in the chest. Hey, it could happen, but I'd prefer it didn't.
So the flight is merrily cruising along. We're singing Kum-ba-ya, Leavin' on a Jetplane, and other campy things. Well, not really. But the image is cute. So, again, we're cruising, we're cruising, we're cruising, we're ... why did the plane just slow down and begin descending? It's only 6:20.
The captain comes on and says, "Uh, folks, I'm sorry to tell you this, but O'Hare is closed again. They just had a feeder cell close up our one projected opening. They're not letting anyone in, so we're being diverted to St. Louis."
Groans throughout the plane.
I got to see the arch in St. Louis though. Well, from about 10 thousand feet up. We land at the airport and get parked out on the tarmac. People are pretty antsy by now, unsure if they were even getting to Chicago by Friday night. By this point, I texted a few folks to give them a heads up.
Ever play the game "Telephone"? You start it by telling something to someone, they tell it to someone else, and eventually it gets back to you? I was doing that with SMS. Found out that one of the other folks flying into O'Hare was also stranded in St. Louis, but he was off his plane and renting a car. We agreed to meet up if my plane didn't make it off the ground again. As all of this is occurring, people are requesting to be let off the plane, so someone comes out to the area we're parked in and hauls them back to the terminal. I decided to play the numbers and see if we'd take off again.
As time drags on, we're all getting a little more restless and ... one of the passengers coming from Austin pulls out this box of cupcakes from Hey, Cupcake! He proceeded to cut them up and pass them out with the help of the flight crew. That made everyone a bit happier. I'm not sure if he was a Hey Cupcake employee or not (he was wearing one of their shirts), but no matter what, it was a great thing to do.
8pm comes and the pilots come on the air. They're negotiating with the tower and ATC to get us off the ground before the other planes in line because their reset time is quickly coming. If we didn't make it off the ground by 8:15, we'd immediately go to the terminal. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. And then we'd have to wait even longer for a new crew to arrive. Damn legalities. I managed to get a beautiful picture of the sunset in St. Louis. I wish I had been on the left side of the plane when we took off again because the view was gorgeous.
So, we got off the ground a few minutes shy of the reset time. There was much rejoicing and cheering for the pilots. The remainder of the flight was uneventful. Off to the east, we could see the ginormous cloud fronts trailing off towards the east. We were traveling at 27 thousand feet. The cloud tops were easily up at 45 or 50 thousand if I had to guess.
We got to O'Hare and visibility was about five miles. Crystal-f'ing-clear. All that was left to do was land, get to my bus, and get over to the hotel before I collapsed.
The Sunday flight back was relatively uneventful. Thankfully. I saw the soldier again. By this point, she had managed to get up to New Hampshire and retrieve her kids. They were walking off to some other gate so I didn't get a chance to say hi. She looked happy and more relaxed with her kids in tow.
Spent a few minutes at O'Hare on Sunday taking photos. Airports are an interesting place to capture the lives of people. Always in a rush. Or not. Always pissy. Or not. Just a daily grind, all compact and neat, shoved into a building surrounded by tankers of jet fuel and exhaust.
I promised myself I would do every Strobist Bootcamp II assignment this go-around. I swear I did. When I failed at doing the second one (the food assignment), I went out and bought some random vittles at Whole Foods to make up for it. A good strobist I was. I chose a random smattering of things: serrano peppers, fresno peppers, coffee beans, spaghetti (spinach AND wheat), two-bite brownies, and pints of blueberries.
But that's ok. I still managed to spend over an hour working the light and coming up with something that looked good. Compared to many of the 2nd assignment's submissions, I think they suck a bit. For the reason mentioned above. I just didn't think enough about what I wanted to do with what I had.
What I'm realizing now is that, while the umbrellas do really well at creating a large, soft light, they're extremely challenging to control. I mean, it's a big round light. At one point, I was getting hot spots coming through because of how close I had the umbrella to the kitchen table. Solved that by slipping a piece of paper inside the umbrella at the point where it came closest to the table top to help diffuse out more of the light. That definitely worked great.
But yeah, take a look at my coffee. Juan Valdez ain't got nothin' on my coffee bean yumminess! I think I'll have to play with this idea some more. Add some piles of white cane sugar, maybe some cinnamon sticks. And a different mug. The brown is definitely just too much.
